


If It's Not You, It's Not Anyone

by crygiankie_trash



Series: Fields of Gold [4]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: F/F, Period-Typical Homophobia, Religious Themes, background jankie (cause you know fields of gold), mama methyd is the real star here, mention of rosnali, mention of the aids crisis of the 80's, read notes for more things. <3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29310015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crygiankie_trash/pseuds/crygiankie_trash
Summary: "Looking Back On My Life You're The Only Good I've Ever Done" // The Story of Crystal and Gigi // Gigi's POV // The Fourth Installment of Fields of Gold.
Relationships: Gigi Goode/Crystal Methyd
Series: Fields of Gold [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133720
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	If It's Not You, It's Not Anyone

**Author's Note:**

> So here is the fourth installment. Honestly I never expected a sad ass one shot to develop into a complete universe, but here we are. Since Crygi are mentioned in all three stories, it only seemed fair for them to have their moment in the sun. And yes, keeping with my aesthetic. It is a songfic. The song is Justin Bieber's 'Anyone' (and usually I'm not a Bieber fan but I was listening to the radio in the car and it came on and hit me in the feels so hard that I had to pull over on the side of the road and have a cry) and I recommend listening to it before reading. 
> 
> Remember that the teenage years are based in the 50's, with the exception of the paragraph that mentions the 80's most of the San Fran scenes are set around the 60's and the final scene is modern day because I'm a hoe for bygone eras apparently. Also religion does play a semi big part in this story and the first two, so if religion is a triggering subject for you, please tread carefully.
> 
> Also the hugest shout-out my girls crygimethoode and artificialpippin: they've honestly inspired most of this, beta'd it for me, helped me work out scenarios and listened to me headcanoning for hours about it. As well as softgeege for letting me fling it at her to read when it was at it's first edit, and also the non-FOG Jackie to my Jan: myhusbandisharryhamilton for letting me destroying her with the Jackie section. Love you gals <3

**_Dance with me under the diamonds_ ** **_  
_ ** **_See me like breath in the cold_ **   
  


“You’ve never danced in the rain?” Crystal’s arms wrap around her waist, pulling the blonde closer to her, resting her chin on an angular shoulder as they watch the rain beating against the windows of Crystal’s bedroom from where they’re sitting on the bed in a pile of patchwork quilting and overstuffed pillows. “You know we’ve got to change that right?” before Gigi gives a soft scoff in return “Oh come on Crys, you really think I’m going out into your backyard at midnight to dance with you in the freezing cold?” though as she speaks, the ginger haired girl is already sliding off the bed and holding out a hand expectantly; replying plainly “Yes?” knowing full well that wherever one of them went, the other would follow with no hesitation. 

Their bare feet patter down the worn floral carpet of the hallway pushing the creaking back door open. The rain pours down around them as Crystal runs full pelt into it, tilting her head up to stare at the diamond studded sky above her before starting to spin, her drenched nightgown clinging to each and every curve of her body rendering Gigi temporarily speechless. She’s heard of angels, heaven, and the depths of hell. And staring at Crystal? She knows that she’d travel to the epicenter of hell over and over again if it meant having the angel currently spinning in the rain by her side forever. 

She hesitantly steps out from the shelter of the porch, her toes sinking in the long grass and mud with each step that she takes, her hands locking with Crystal’s outstretched ones as she approaches her, and they come together without hesitation, lips pressing against each other before starting to dance to a beat of their own making. They move together, faster and faster until the world becomes a blur, till their nightgowns stick to their bodies like a second skin and their hair gets drenched sending rivulets of water down their spines. 

They waltz, their toes barely brushing the ground as they spin around; bodies locked together, they spin like carefree children as the world pitches around them making them unsteady on their feet stumbling together, they two-step between the flowerbeds taking turns spinning each other out before crashing back together. They break apart doing the twist and hand jiving around each other; smiles wide and teasing peals of laughter ringing through the air blanketed by the thunder. And Gigi’s  _ happy _ . Their hands come together again, swinging each other though neither make the move to try and lift the other lest they tumble into the mud.  _ “This is how it should be'' _ Gigi thinks, before they press back together again, their lips meeting hungrily as the rain runs down their faces and into their mouths only breaking apart as a particularly loud crash of thunder causes them both to jump in fright. “..We should go back inside” Crystal’s words are quiet as her thumb brushes against Gigi’s pale cheekbone before Gigi nods, not wanting the spell that seems to have fallen over the garden to be broken. That just like in the fairytales she used to read when she was younger; that when the clock strikes midnight, she’ll turn into a pumpkin and have to run back home to the picture perfect house devoid of the love and chaos that envelops her with each visit to the Methyd’s. But the air is cold and frigid against her skin and when Crystal’s arm drops? It leaves goosebumps in its wake, bringing her back to an unforgiving reality. 

Crystal’s hand has barely touched the gaudy brass doorknob before it swings open and an amused Mama Methyd is gazing at them fondly holding out two fluffy towels. “Get inside you two. I don’t want to know what was going through my Cryssie’s one remaining brain cell to drag you out there Gigi '' before giving them both a gentle kiss on the forehead. “There’s a bath ready for you, go get warm before you catch your death and I not only have to explain the concept of divorce to the entire town but why I have two frozen teenagers in my backyard” drawing a laugh out of the soaking wet girls as they traipse back up the hallway calling out a ‘Thanks Mama!’ In unison as they squeeze their limbs into the one bath, sighing softly as the warm water takes the chill out of their bones. Crystal’s hazel eyes look content, drowsy; and Gigi leans forward brushing her lips against Crystal’s, a gentle and sweet kiss, that she pours her everything into; her words soft and breathy. “I love you Crystal Elizabeth”

  
**_Sleep with me here in the silence_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Come kiss me, silver and gold_ **   
  
It’s been years since they left that town with nothing more than a rucksack each full of clothes, Crystal’s art supplies and Gigi’s sewing kit, the money they’d saved, and the blessing of the one woman who truly loved them. They’ve built a life for themselves in a bustling city in a small flat that had a rainbow flag sticking out from the door. Their kitchen a mixture of unmatched crockery and cutlery that they picked up from second hand stores or that they’d somehow collected through their many dinner parties through the years. The handmade curtains from richly embroidered sari fabric picked up at a festival do little to conceal the glow from the street lamps of the silent streets outside the window. They have matching rings on their fingers, and a life together, to the point where Gigi introduces herself as “Gigi Methyd” when they meet new people. She’s happy,  _ so happy _ , and she lets her fingers dance along the sleeping Crystal’s shoulder blade before the Latina turns over, eyes sticking together with sleep grumbling a quiet. “I can hear you thinking from here. Turn your damn brain off Geege” and pressing a sleepy kiss to Gigi’s collarbone, the only area she can reach from where she’s swaddled in the stolen sheets. “Bedtime now, no thoughts. Just sleep” Crystal’s voice is rough and heavy, the words hanging in the air, as sluggish like someone trying to wade through a paddling pool of molasses before Gigi unravels the cocoon of sheets and kisses Crystal awake, moving down her body. “No thoughts” her words are breathed against Crystal’s navel as skillful fingers slide into her, still warm and wet from the activities of earlier, drawing a soft moan out of the woman above her. “No thoughts. Just feel”.    
  


**You say that I won't lose you but you can't predict the future** **  
** **So just hold on like you will never let go** **  
**   
Gigi couldn’t imagine living her life the way her mother had before her. An upturned nose and a holier than thou attitude and being wine-soaked night after night and judgmental all in the name of Jesus’ love with a husband who more often than not? Wasn’t there. That might be how the world worked in the confines of their small town. But Gigi had always known she’d needed more than a white picket fence and a leather bound bible. She wanted excitement, adventure, bright colours and  _ Crystal _ . God had never made sense to her, as much as she’d tried to think about it from all angles, and as much as she wanted to believe in something? She needed something real and tangible, something she could hold and look at, and just  _ know _ it existed because she had held it, heard it, and seen it with her own two eyes. And that something? Was Crystal. 

  
**_Yeah, if you ever move on without me_ ** **_  
_ ** **_I need to make sure you know_ ** **_  
_ ** **_That you are the only one I'll ever love_ **

When everyone started dating, it made Gigi more aware than ever of her feelings for Crystal. She could see her feelings echoed in the Latina’s eyes, though she doesn’t know how to approach them or even how to go about dealing with them, and for the first time? Gigi is grateful for the blanket of protection her religion offers her. She can turn someone down without flinching, cool grey eyes skimming over them before picking up her books and striding down the hall, her shoulder bumping gently with Crystal’s when she passes the copper haired girls locker, their eyes meeting in a secret smile of wordless communication. 

Despite being a regular guest in the Goode household in her childhood? Crystal was no longer welcome in the sterile walls where Gigi had grown up, Karen claiming that although Crystal was ‘a sweet girl’, the Methyd family reputation was just too damaged and that since her Mother had not only been the one to orchestrate her own divorce but had also stopped coming to church, that it was a sin. Not only was the ‘crackpot of a woman’ living without a husband, but she had turned away from God himself. “You may try and bring them back to our pastures Sweet Girl” her mother soothes her in a saccharine tone as they get ready for church, their matching grey eyes and blonde hair gazing back at themselves in the mirror; forever picture perfect. “But sometimes, those who are lost to God, are just as lost to us” and Gigi gives a small smile at their reflections pointendly ignoring the last statement as she spritzes her bangs with another coat of hairspray, playing the game of a good Christian girl commenting quietly to change the topic. “Come on Mom, didn’t you promise Mrs Mantione that Jan and I would help with the little ones at Sunday School? We should get going.We can’t be late, Mrs Mantione might give up our spot in the front pew” and picks up her purse, effectively ending the discussion; tucking the leather bible inside as they head out the door.    
  
“ _ That is why God abandoned them to their shameful desires. Even the women turned against the natural way to have sex and instead indulged in sex with each other. And the men, instead of having normal sexual relations with women, burned with lust for each other. Men did shameful things with other men, and as a result of this sin, they suffered within themselves the penalty they deserved _ .”    
  


Their Pastors voice rings through the church, his fist slamming down violently against the altar as he speaks, and out of the corner of her eye, Gigi can see the anxious fumbling of Jan’s fingers against her rosary beads, her own back straightens as she tunes out the words, focusing instead of the garland edging the back curtain; the sermon going in one ear and out the other. She knows what she feels, and she won’t be ashamed of it. But now isn’t the right time to scream it from the rooftops. There’s a time and a place for her,  _ for them _ . And now isn’t it. She and Crystal will get their day in the sun. She knows it with every fibre of her being. Because something that feels so right couldn’t possibly be wrong. One day. 

  
**_(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone_ ** **_  
_ ** **_(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)_ **

The second that she and Crystal share their first tentative kiss, Gigi knows she’s a goner and that if Hell really does exist? Then she cemented her place there, paid in full and signed her name with a flourish for a one-way ticket and stamped her passport at the boarding gate. She’s leaning against the sink, spraying at her blonde waves with yet another liberal helping of hairspray when Crystal comes out of a cubicle and starts washing her hands in silence. They stare at each other in the mirror neither sure what to say before Crystal, unable to remain serious for an extended period of time, cracks a smile. Gigi’s own lips curve up out of habit before they start laughing at the absurdity of the situation they’re in. She’s seen Crystal at school, spoken to her at lunchtime and even managed to walk some of the way home with her more than once. But she misses her being part of her everyday life. She misses their tea parties, or how they’d decorated their faces with Gigi’s Mom’s entire makeup collection on one occasion and insisted that they were ‘Beeee-uteeee-full!’, of how they’d both agreed that boys were gross and they weren’t going to get married to one, or how Mama Methyd had taught them to press flowers and leaves between sheets of waxy paper and carefully helped them with the iron, the endless afternoons spent splashing each other in the Goode’s pool and running shrieking under the sprinklers on lush green lawns, Crystal sweet talking Heidi their neighbourhood Avon lady to give them the ends of the samples for the eyeshadows and lipsticks from her kit or lying in the cushion soft grass of the Methyd’s backyard with Jackie and Jan pointing up at the clouds and finding shapes and clouds for hours on end. 

“I miss you Crys” her words are quiet as their laughter dies down, before Crystal offers a small smile in return. “I miss you too Geege” as reaches out her hand, their fingers entwining over the basin, sighing in unison at the familiar touch, before moving together, wrapping the other in a tight hug. Crystal smells like April violets and sunshine with the underlying smell of something uniquely Crystal that she could never describe, but would know in a heartbeat, and Gigi’s intoxicated all over again. They pull back, gazing at each other for a second and neither can remember who leaned in first, but their lips brush against each other, barely a touch but enough to have them pulling back and staring at each other wide-eyed. 

A shaky exhale passes between her lips, but she refuses to drop her arms from around Crystal’s tense form, their arms locked tightly. They come together again, more confidently this time. Their lips pressing against each other urgently as Crystal backs her against the bathroom wall, a soft sigh leaving her lips. She’s done for, and if anything feels half as good as Crystal’s lips on hers? Then she’ll spend forever chasing that feeling, or praying at the altar of a false god trying to get it back.    
  
**_Lookin' back on my life, you're the only good I've ever done_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone_ ** **_  
_ ** **_(Anyone) not anyone_ **

The day they ran away will forever be etched into Gigi’s mind, though she supposes the adventure started when they were 16. She and Crystal had put aside half their allowances each week for as long as they’d been getting them in a large box under Crystal’s bed since Gigi didn’t trust her mother not to snoop, and they’d stared at the money in shock realising how much they had, more than enough to get them on a bus out of there. Enough to be able to support themselves for at least a year. They’d heard about San Francisco from a girl in the class above them called Rock who was known for her bright clothing and opinions, and that’s where their heart was set on. The box they stashed their money in was covered in any pictures they could find of the city; cut from magazines, the newspapers, and glossy travel brochures from Brita; the loud smiling travel agent who ran the church choir. 

They discussed it over candlelit late nights in Crystal’s bed, in whispered giggles in the bathroom at school, and on walks home along the creek that ran along the edge of town. They discussed how they would rent a hotel room for the first week and pretend they were celebrities and find the infamous rainbow street and an apartment there. “I want hanging egg chairs” Gigi had informed Crystal, before the girl gives a nod of agreement, her lips finding Gigi’s shoulder “Fine, but I want one of those orange shaggy rugs” which Gigi despite wrinkling up her nose at, agrees to happily before they formally shake over it, breaking out in giggles and sealing it with a kiss instead. “We’ll go the day after your 18th'' Crystal decides, enough time for them to have finished school and for all purposes? Be adults.   
  
They study bus timetables, the route they’ll need to take and another year drifts by, the chocolate box becomes heavier, and after her mother passes out on the sofa, an empty bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table in front of her, Gigi makes her nightly break to the Methyd house entering through the back door and hearing the familiar squeak of the hinges, though she stops suddenly at the sight of Crystal and Mama Methyd sitting at the table looking more serious than she’d ever seen either of them, their matching eyes a dark shade of hazel, and full of concern..

The chocolate box is between them, the map of San Francisco that the route that Gigi had marked out clearly with red ink, and the woman that Gigi loves more than her own mother is gazing between them as Gigi hesitantly joins them at the table, her hands fluttering on her lap anxiously. Mama Methyd’s hands, soft, tanned and filled with ornate rings reach out, taking one of each of the girls asking quietly as she squeezes gently to get their attention before asking in a hushed tone “...Is this what you really want my girls?” before Crystal, always the first one to break sniffles quietly. “It is Mama. We’re never going to be accepted here. Gee’s parents wouldn’t let us be together. I love you Mama, I love our house, but we’re never going to get to be happy here” before Gigi’s own eyes fill with tears, that roll down her face and stain the cheap pine of the kitchen table, her voice thick with emotion, snuffling inelegantly any pretense of composure gone and her usually well concealed raw emotions in the place of her usual cool mask “I love her too Mama, she’s it for me. Always has been” before swallowing heavily as the small Latina woman releases her hands and stands before her, dropping a kiss to her bangs before turning and doing the same to Crystal . “Then you’re going to San Francisco my girls. Go be free”, and six months later? She and Crystal board a bus with nothing but two rucksacks, the money they’d saved, the patchwork quilt from Crystal’s bed, and a soft kiss and wave goodbye from the best woman they’d ever known.

On the day Gigi leaves, her mother is passed out in her bed, the face that is so similar to Gigi’s own looking peaceful and serene though the acrid smell of yesterday’s wine and perfume surrounds her, the mascara smudges under her eyes bold and dark. For all that Karen Goode puts out into the universe? She’s so deeply unhappy, but insists on putting on a believable charade for the rest of the world. Perhaps things would be easier for Gigi if she was like the Karen Goode’s and the Jan Mantione’s of the world, but she’s not. She never has been and she’d take a lifetime of struggling with Crystal than even a second of living a facade of life that is anything other than truly authentic. She could never hate her mother, but all she feels is a detachment for the woman who she shares her DNA with. Her lips brush at her mothers temples smelling the familiar scent for what she knows will be the last time and Karen doesn’t even stir, still locked in an alcohol and medication induced slumber. A note is left on the counter with her house key; _ I love her. Don’t come looking for me. - Gigi _ and she lifts the rucksack over her shoulders and heads out the door securing it behind her for the last time, closing the gate behind her; allowing one last look at the white weatherboard house with its immaculate gardens and it’s white picket fence, before making her way down the road to the bus-depot where Crystal waits for her, hair shining as bright as a copper penny in the early morning sun, two tickets already clutched in her hand. 

They watch the town disappear behind them, through a dusty rear window; their hands entwined as Crystal’s head rests on Gigi’s shoulder as the bus chugs steadily along the highway each puff of smoke from the exhaust taking them further away from where they came from, and towards where they were meant to be. _ Together _ . And as much as she wants to be sad, or mourn for her old life? The only thing she can feel is excited. She’s gotten out. They’ve gotten out.   
**_  
_ ** **_Forever's not enough time to_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Love you the way that I want_ ** **_  
_ ** **_'Cause every morning I find you_ ** **_  
_ ** **_I fear the day that I don't_ **

The day Jan finds them kissing, Gigi’s heart sinks to the floor. She can see the way Jan and Jackie look at each other. “Gaydar” Crystal had called it once, when they discussed it while skipping rocks along the creek. “It’s like radar but for gays. We can like sniff each other out” before Gigi shakes her head with a small smile skipping her rock clean to the otherside of the bank. “You’re an idiot Crystal Elizabeth” she scoffs before shrieking inelegantly as Crystal’s fingers dig into her sides in a tickle war that Gigi’s bound to lose as she thrashes in the grass screaming with laughter as she wiggles and thrashes trying to get away. 

Jan’s face upon seeing them is ashen, and for the first time in a long time, Gigi feels scared. Jan might be one of them deep down, but she also knows the sway that Alexis holds over her daughter. She’s seen Jan’s ashen complexion when the Pastor talks about homosexuality and how her fingers fly desperately over her rosary as if she can click away her sins. There is nothing stopping Jan from running out that door and going straight to the Goode’s house and announcing what she saw, and then Gigi would be done for, sent away from Crystal, and everything she knows and loves.

“I love her” Crystal’s voice breaks through the silence, strong and confident and Gigi finally finds her voice, drawing strength from the warmth of Crystal’s unwavering presence next to her. “I love her too” her voice is quiet, but no less steady and she can see Jan faltering in front of her, confusion flashing through her eyes. She speaks of God, but her words lack conviction and Gigi throws her a lifeline, because although as much of a goody two shoes Jan can be? She’s a sweet girl and Gigi wants to see Jan with more than the standard American dream that Alexis has laid before her. “We’re getting out of here Jan. We’re going to San Francisco. There’s a street with rainbows, and where we can be who we want. Crystal’s Mom already said yes. There’s a lot more in the world than just this town, you deserve to experience that too” her hand brushes at Jan’s arm. Hoping to get through to her; though the small blonde pulls away like she’s been burnt, staring at them blankly before she and Crystal drop their hands and head back into the quiet hallways of the school leaving the flabbergasted blonde alone in the bathroom.

She lets herself into her house, her heart thudding against her ribcage anxiously wondering if Jan has broken down and told of what she saw. But the house is empty, sans a note on the fruit bowl and when her mother returns home later that night? They eat macaroni in silence before Karen passes out on the couch, yet another bottle of wine dangling precariously from her hand. “You’re a good girl Genevieve'' is whispered to her after Gigi’s staggered upstairs, her mother being a dead weight on her shoulders unable to support herself as Gigi puts her to bed. She’s safe; Jan hasn’t tattled, and once Karen is tucked in securely, a glass of water next to the bed with a tablet of aspirin next to it? She escapes into the night again and runs to the refuge of Crystal’s arms and the warmth of the Methyd household. 

She runs into Jan the next morning, there’s something lighter about her, a brightness that Gigi had only seen while she was singing at the Church, her melodious voice filling the air with sweetly sung hymns. They sit together at the soda shop with strawberry milkshakes in front of them that they drink in silence; neither sure what to say before Gigi slurps down the last of hers and pushes the glass away. “...You know if you need an excuse? You.. You can use me” she doesn’t elaborate and is surprised at the small smile that glosses the blonde’s lips as she smooths a hand down the fussy purple dress she’s wearing. “Likewise Geege” it’s as close to an affirmation that Gigi will get, but she’ll take it. A silent understanding between the two blondes. Though she knows that unlike her and Crystal? Jan and Jackie aren’t going to get the ending they deserve. Not when Jan’s still hanging off Alexander’s arm in a convincing show of play-pretend. 

**_You say that I won't lose you but you can't predict the future_ ** **_  
_ ** **_'Cause certain things are out of our control_ **

Jackie had become an integral part of their lives, a link to the home that they’d left behind no thanks to Mama Methyd who gave Jackie’s new address and number to them, and in the typical Methyd fashion had thrown being subtle to the side and told them. “She needs a friend, and she needs it now”, and when Crystal had jotted it down, Gigi had been relieved to see the address as New York. Jackie had gotten out, though before Crystal’s fingers had finished putting in the number? She knows with a sinking feeling that Jan didn’t. Jackie’s voice floods the line, her tone cracking sharply as Crystal speaks. “I can’t do it, I can’t watch her do it'' Jackie's words are manic,tumbling over each other, repeated like a frenzied mantra and Gigi can see Crystal’s own emotions welling up, before eventually snatching the phone from her. “You don’t have to do it alone Jacks, you’ve got us, and I don’t want to toot our own horn, but we’ve got a pretty comfy sofa that has your name on it” before Jackie is snuffling down the phone in agreement, travel plans being arranged on the spot, though nothing can prepare them for the reality of seeing the heartbreak Jackie’s feeling. 

They start off cheerful when they pick her up from the train station discussing Jackie’s classes, her apartment in New York, Crystal’s job at the movie theatre though as the day goes on, the topics slowly shift to back home, their lives before and  _ Jan _ . Jackie’s barely three mouthfuls into a bottle of sweetened gin before she’s sobbing, the full story finally unravelling and being told aloud, and Gigi’s heart flies into her mouth. The barley fields, “I love you Janetta Mantione. Always will”, of the many stolen moments and nights together. Jackie’s heartbreak is raw, real and neither she or Crystal are fully equipped to deal with the magnitude of pain flowing from the girl. Their arms wrap around her, blanketing her with as much love as they can muster, remaining quiet and letting her get everything out, though she can see Crystal’s expression as she fights back her own tears, ever the empath to comfort their friend in her time of need. 

Jackie finally, after what feels like eons; cries herself to exhaustion, the bottle of gin half empty and they tuck her into the couch, spreading a soft blanket across her and tiptoeing to their bedroom, where they undress and lie in bed, Crystal immediately curling into her side. “That could have been us Gee”, Crystal’s words are quiet, choked with emotion and Gigi holds her that little bit tighter knowing Crystal’s words carry an awful weight. That it could have easily been Crystal in Jackie’s position, that if Gigi wasn’t as strong and unwavering in her beliefs that she could have easily been Jan and that despite everything they stood for, and that they tried to prove day in, day out? That sometimes just loving someone wasn’t always enough to overcome everything. She shifts down the bed a little so she’s face to face with her lover, a thumb brushing across Crystal’s plump bottom lip before capturing her lips in a soulful kiss, trying to pour everything she’s feeling into it. “We’re not them Crys” the words are breathed against her lips. “We’re here, together. And I’m not going anywhere. Not without you”   
**_  
_ ** **_Yeah, if you ever move on without me_ ** **_  
_ ** **_I need to make sure you know_ **

Love and life are hard work and despite what people are led to believe in fairytales? Don’t come easy, and for a while they do struggle living off their savings. They find a small apartment in a large building owned by a tall and imposing woman with a booming laugh and an ever present martini glass in her hand called Mrs Kasha Davis, though no husband ever seems to materialise. “I’m pretty sure she killed him” Rosé; a stocky but bonny lass with a mane of red hair, one of the strongest jawlines that Gigi had ever seen, and a slight Scottish accent informs her over a large bong on the balcony of the apartment she shares with her girlfriend Denali, a fiery wisp of a girl with large eyes and matching dimples who is in the kitchen with Crystal arguing about the best filling for an empanada, talking in rapid Spanish that neither Gigi or Rosé understand. But Gigi is grateful for their friendship and the fact the larger than life landlady seems to have made the building a haven for other queer runaways and made them into their own found family, a myriad of stories and backgrounds that run the gamut between romantic and downright tragic. 

They struggle, and sometimes they fight over stupid things but they always come back together knowing that they’d rather fight one battle together than two separate ones alone, and eventually Gigi’s side business of mending and altering clothing becomes a steady income thanks to word of mouth that branches off into her own designs, and Crystal gets a part-time job at the local movie theatre as well as other odd jobs here and there, forever bouncing around trying to find her niche before she finally finds it in nursing when she takes up a volunteer position at the hospital on a whim and decides to study nursing; Her bright demeanour and cheerful personality making her a perfect fit for the children’s ward, though sometimes she comes home crying and distraught when they can’t save a patient so Gigi strokes her hair that glows mahogany in the fading light and sings her soft lullabies and sweet hymns until the crease between Crystal’s eyebrows disappears and her long lashes flutter against tear stained cheeks as the city winds down outside and Gigi finds herself falling in love all over again. 

**_You are the only one I'll ever love_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** They lose too many people during the 80’s and it only reinforces to Gigi that sometimes the world just isn’t fucking fair. Crystal wears more black in the space of three years than she’s worn in her entire life, and they let balloon, after balloon, after balloon go into the wind and watch them twist and wind; drifting between the buildings before making their way to the sky and drifting out of sight. It’s a constant pain and hurt that has no end in sight, and as selfish as it sounds; at the end of the day? She and Crystal are two of the lucky ones and have each other to come home to. 

Their community rallies together, their voices making up for those who had fallen, fighting with every inch of strength they have, but sometimes no matter how much they throw into it. It’s not enough, and that feeling is a persistent ache in her stomach. They curl up together in the bed and the now tattered quilt that still drapes across the bed covers them as they lie together fingers entwined. “We’re gonna keep fighting” Crystal’s words are soft, quiet and her lips brush against Gigi’s knuckles. “We’ve just got to fight for them now, not just us” and Gigi presses her face against Crystal’s chest and at long last, lets herself cry.   
  
The world is unfair, cold and downright cruel sometimes, but she has Crystal. Warm, unfalteringly kind and beautiful Crystal who reminds her of everything beautiful in fall. Of russet colours, knobbly knitted hats, of deep kisses that still after all these years make her feel like swooning like a smitten teenager, the laughter that escapes her when she finds the crunchiest leaf on a path, and of chipped mugs of cafe con leche. She has Crystal, and together they’ll take on another day.

_**Lookin' back on my life, you're the only good I've ever done** **  
** **Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone** **  
** **It's not anyone, not anyone** _ ****__  
  
“People come for a reason, a season or a lifetime” and it’s true; people come and go in their story, leaving their mark on the scrapbook of their life, some stay forever like Jackie entwined to their story and bleeding over the pages, others come and go like Denali and Rosé , some only come for a singular night, or a week. Their apartment becomes a mosaic of everyone they’ve ever loved. From the wines they drink, to the urban jungle of plants that scatters their house and balcony, to the assortment of books and magazines that litter the bookshelves, the pride flag that still hangs over their door and photographs of their life together that scatter between artworks on the wall. Their apartment is a testament to their life together, to the giant game of life wheel that was painted on the wall back in the 80’s and 90’s, the counter where Crystal still drinks her tea of a morning, or the ever present can of hairspray in the bathroom that Gigi still uses to lacquer down her blonde waves, though these days her hair is more silver than blonde, and Crystal’s hands that grip her mug are still impossibly soft, though the skin is now littered with age spots and wrinkles. 

They’re a living testament to love. Some even go as far to call them icons in the countless interviews they’ve done, though in Gigi’s eyes? They’re not icons. Not by any stretch. It doesn’t matter that Crystal has lines around her eyes and that her hips are wider than ever before and that she resembles her mother more and more with each day that passes, or that Gigi doesn’t move up the stairs quite as fast as she used to and finds herself not able to stay awake all night but instead often falls asleep in the reclining chair before 9pm. They’re still the same girls that danced in the rain all those decades ago, who packed their belongings and caught a bus to a world that offered them what a close-minded small town couldn’t, they’re still the determined women who created a life together in an ever growing city, and who stayed together when society told them they were wrong, and who were forced to fight against the social grain for just being themselves and in love. Her hand catches Crystal’s running her thumb over her knuckles and offers her a soft smile, forgetting about the wide eyed youth tapping away at his tablet with each word they speak. “It’s really just finding someone that’s worth it, whose hand you can hold while giving the world the finger with the other one, and who you could spend forever with and you’d still beg for one more day with them” unsurprisingly Crystal’s eyes have already filled with tears and Gigi smiles back, her own eyes glistening; echoing the words she’d spoke aloud all those years ago at the Methyd’s table. “She’s it for me. Always has been”.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to kudos/comment if you liked! Comments are great; tell me what you liked, what you hated, who you'd love to see more of, any songs that you think could fit the verse, etc.. <3 I'm honestly a hoe for validation and want to hear your thoughts, even if it's just a keysmash.


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